Winter of Discontent

conflagration. In the meantime ten men had moved from Havorn and Alekrage to crew each of the five captured ships. Anchor ropes were cut at the bows of each ship and the ships hauled backwards into the main stream of the creek using the kedge anchors. Even with skeleton crews the seven ships had little to fear from the Danes, as only an anchor-watch had been left on the Danish ships with barely enough men to raise an anchor and certainly not enough to row the ships.

Remembering one of the maxims written by the Roman Vegetius in the 4th century allow your enemy to retreat, Alan had instructed Sven that he wanted to leave six or seven ships in Danish hands, enough for them to use to flee if the battle went in favour of the English, but with their strength significantly diminished.

Alan knew that, like the wolves they were, the Danish raiders would move on and look for easier prey if they could. He also knew that, also like wolves, if trapped they would fight to the death. Even now there were still more Danes than Englishmen and to totally defeat them would cost many English lives for what Alan saw as no benefit. There seemed an inexhaustible supply of Danes and longships and he wanted as few Englishwomen as possible being made widows today, and as many men as possible ready to respond when the Danes next raided. So Sven and Lars had their crews row close to the Danish longships, carefully tossing flasks of Wildfire into four snekke. The pint or so of incendiary material splashed across the decks setting fire first to the tar-drenched caulking, then the wood hulls and the tarred ropes. One burning ship drifted into another, setting it ablaze in moments, as the Danish crewmen threw themselves in the water and swam away.

The undermanned ships crewed by the English, Havorn and Alekrage together with the new prizes, rowed away slowly towards the Colne estuary and then headed north, using their flax-coloured woollen sails to take advantage of a favourable breeze and give the tired rowers a rest.

Despite the pyres burning behind them the Danes on the shore still seemed unaware of the dual nature of their predicament. They had fallen back approximately half a mile to a point halfway between the initial point of contact and the village of Brightlingsea. Here the land was much more open and footing more firm and they were seeking to rally. With still with over 500 men they stood, and as the second cavalry charge had exhausted itself and fallen back the Danes had formed a shield-wall of two, sometimes three, ranks and with a group of men on each flank to both act as reserves and provide protection for the vulnerable flanks.

The English followed slowly, the infantry leading, moving carefully through the pattern of defensive pits. The cavalry followed, positioning themselves to the east, on the English left flank. There, away from the lower-lying ground, the footing was firmer. Finally, the archers came trotting through, delayed by their obtaining fresh supplies of arrows from the village lads pulling hand-carts laden with sheaves of arrows. Alan was not happy with the new position. The infantry had the defensive pits to their rear. The cavalry, while on open ground and with firm footing, had the stand of trees to their rear. Both the pits and the trees would make any retreat, should it prove necessary, difficult- just as it had for the Danes a few minutes before.

In the pause as the English set up their shield-wall two things happened. Alan had water-carts with barrels of fresh water move through his lines, allowing the men to drink and wash the enemy’s blood from their faces, arms and weapons, and the cavalry to water their horses using the leather collapsible buckets that each horseman carried. The other was that the Danish leader had finally realised that something was amiss to his rear. The more seriously Danish wounded were assisted to the ships, mainly by those with lesser injuries but also with some fit men to secure the remaining ships.

For perhaps half an hour, the Dane and English stood looking at each other, the shield-walls separated by about 150 paces. Light rain began to fall, making the men uncomfortable as it soaked through the leather on which the chain-mail or scale-armour was sewn and into the padded garments below. Alan was on the English left flank sitting on his destrier Odin next to the cavalry and gladly accepted a towel his servant Leof handed to him, wiping the moisture, part rain and part sweat, from his face. Odin was fidgeting, moving his weight from foot to foot, keen to get to work as all he had done so far that day was stand and watch.

The leaders who Alan had appointed for his forces were Brand, in overall charge of the infantry, with Leofstan, Leofson of Moze and Alwin of Little Bromley as his deputies. The cavalry was led by Alan’s men Hugh, Ainulf, Edric (still with his axe in hand) and Alfward, together with Gerard de Cholet from Elmstead. The archers, all Alan’s men, were led by Owain, Roger, Barclay, Abracan and Aethelbald. Ranulf the Huscarle, Brand’s deputy, commanded back at the village.

The preponderance of his own men in charge of the cavalry and archers showed Alan’s basic battle philosophy- kill as many as possible at long range and smash what was left with repeated charges of heavy cavalry from the flanks. This was a philosophy intended to maximise results and minimise casualties.

The English were now positioned with a main shield-wall of about 200 men facing the Danes, in three ranks. Two groups of each of fifty men stood slightly behind in reserve. The archers were deployed in five squads each of ten men, two squads on each wing and one in the centre. Alan instructed Hugh to take a ten-man squad of cavalry to the right wing to provide protection for the archers on that flank, leaving forty mounted men on the left wing. The archers on the other flank were standing ankle-deep in water on the tidal-flat and were in effect protected from attack by the soft nature of the ground. The Danish leader in response sent more men to his right wing to counter the strength of the English on that side.

Preparations complete, Alan ordered his men forward fifty paces and for the archers to again begin to loose at the Danes. Further supplies of arrows were already being brought forward even before the barrage began. In response, the Danes crouched, the large round shields of the front rank facing the English providing cover to the front and those of the second rank, standing close behind, providing cover overhead.

At times of stress Alan’s language tended to become colourful, even if his mind remained ice-clear. This was one of those times. A string of the vilest oaths and imprecations he could think of both in English and French burst forth. There was a polite cough from Gerard de Cholet next to him, and Alan turned and saw that Anne was sitting on her white palfrey Misty just behind him. “Holy Mary, Mother of God! Just what I need right now!” Alan complained loudly. He didn’t ask her how matters were progressing in the village. He knew that if things weren’t in hand she wouldn’t be here. Ignoring her he went on, “I knew I should have brought up those damn onagers. Just throwing fucking big rocks at them would break up that shield-wall! Bad planning!”

While Alan debated with himself whether to call for the onagers, which would take two hours to break-down, move and re-assemble. The longbowmen were killing and injuring Danes at a slow but steady pace. In the end Alan decided to send the archers further forward, to be level or behind the Danish shield wall, and deployed his cavalry to equally cover both flanks.

This forced the Danes to pull back both their flanks and commit their reserves, resulting in a near round- shaped formation- the Danes had learned their lesson earlier in the day. In the face of the accuracy and sheer power of the longbow, together with the threat of further smashing cavalry charges, they were not prepared to commit suicide by attacking. Similarly, Alan did not want to throw either cavalry or infantry against the Danish shield-wall. The Danes were no longer encumbered by being crammed together and without doubt many would wield the two-handed battle-axe in a way to cause many English casualties. Alan was bearing in mind that his objective was not to kill the Danes, but remove them as a threat at the least possible cost to the local fyrdmen and troops, and he tempered his impatience accordingly.

He moved a force of thirty horsemen past the right flank of the Danes to threaten the remaining Danish ships, and then had them hold. The Danes responded to the threat to their only avenue of escape in the manner which Alan had expected, by withdrawing towards the remaining ships in an orderly fashion, one or two ship-loads of 50 men at a time, forming a new line 100 paces back, and then resuming their withdrawal. Alan was content to let them go. The alternative was to force a battle by sallying his men- but he did not want to end up owning a battlefield strewn with Danish and English corpses. The former he was not concerned about, but the latter were important. He knew he could only achieve one at the cost of the other.

Gerard de Cholet rode up to Alan, pulling up his charger only about arm’s length away, shouting and gesticulating that the enemy were escaping, spittle flying from his mouth in his agitation as he demanded action. De Cholet had neither been knighted nor made the owner of the lands he held from fitzWymarc, and as such his social position was so far below that of Alan that his opinion was worthless.

With some difficulty Alan stayed his hand from his sword to take retribution for the aspersions cast on his manliness and courage. After a brief pause while Alan considered he could not refer to de Cholet as ‘Sir Gerard’ or ‘Mesire’, he simply and bluntly replied, “I know that damn well, de Cholet! I intend for them to escape, rather than